


growing up don't feel just like it should

by jennycaakes



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Baby Fic, Dysfunctional Family, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 23:48:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9792494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennycaakes/pseuds/jennycaakes
Summary: When Monty and Harper were together, Harper accidentally got pregnant. They decided to stay broken up but raise the baby together as friends. Monty really, really likes it when Miller helps out.





	

**Author's Note:**

> the name of the baby (Emma!) was probably definitely stolen from hawthornewhisperer accidentally. I got halfway through and was like ooohhhh right right. anyway, enjoy!

Monty never thought that at 19, he’d be a father. To be fair, he never really thought he’d be a father at all. But two months after he and Harper called it quits and she came to him with a dilemma, a _baby_ , they agreed to raise it together. Seven months later when a little girl popped out, Monty Green officially had a child.

Now as he holds sweet little Emma in his arms, cooing softly to her as she falls asleep his chest, he’s infinitely grateful that he and Harper had their brief time together. Harper’s asleep now in her bed in med bay and Monty’s beside her with their baby. He was thankful that they ended on amicable terms and were still friendly by the time she came to him with the news. It would’ve been _insanely_ awkward if they had cut all ties.

“You’re going to have a billion people raising you,” Monty tells Emma as he rocks back and forth. “A mom and a dad, and maybe another mom and a dad depending on who _your_ mom and dad wanna be with because we both like _all_ the people.” Emma makes a soft noise that makes Monty feel insanely cozy and he tugs his baby closer. “And an Uncle Jasper, an Uncle Bellamy,” he carries on, “and an Aunty Clarke and Aunty Raven.”

“No Uncle Miller?” Monty hears. He turns a little too quickly, his weight not really evenly distributed, to find Miller striding toward them with a soft smile on his face.

“Uncle Nate,” Monty corrects.

“You should be resting,” Miller says softly, his eyes darting over to where Harper sleeps. “Today was long.”

“I’m not the one who shoved out the baby,” Monty tells him. Harper’s delivery was a long one, because even though Abby and Clarke and Jackson had delivered a few babies before Harper’s, there were still some complications that came with being on earth. Harper was exhausted but okay, and Monty by her side wanted nothing to do with female anatomy for a long time. “You want to hold her?” Monty asks.

Miller tenses slightly and his eyes grow dark, but eventually he nods. The entire gang had been around while Harper brought their little miracle into the world, but Miller had been on shift. With the changes in the guard (aka everyone of excess leaving to find jobs in things they actually _wanted_ to pursue), Miller had been working more and more. Hopefully Monty and Raven could come up with some sort of secure system in the next couple of months that would cut down on the number of guards once more.

Monty passes his daughter over to Miller slowly, making sure to show him where to put his hands (Abby had given him _a lot_ of tips), and smiles at the sight of Miller with this small baby in his arms. Emma’s tiny, and Miller’s hands seem to cover all of her at once. She looks safe in his grasp. Monty rubs at his eyes while watching Miller get comfortable.

“She’s beautiful,” Miller says softly. “Congratulations Monty. Really.”

Monty smiles. “Thank you.”

* * *

For about the hundredth time this week, Monty’s grateful that he and Harper aren’t dating anymore. He loves Harper, okay. He really does. She’s great. And she’s the mother of his daughter. And she’s a strong, independent woman, which is excellent. Seriously.

But when they disagree, God do they disagree.

(Sharing a cup of water at Mount Weather was not a good basis for a relationship.)

“Because it _does_ matter,” Harper insists a little sharply. She’s breastfeeding Emma now while Monty’s at the table, tinkering around with some blueprints that Raven wanted him to look at, and Monty rolls his eyes. “You have to start conditioning yourself now to not say bad words or by the time she knows what words are she’ll be cussing up a storm.”

For starters, all Monty said was shit. Okay? And it was under his breath! And now Harper’s over here having an aneurysm because she’s convinced that Emma is capable of understanding speech. And secondly, Emma’s going to be saying things like shit and fuck and damn by the time she’s four anyway! All of the delinquents are raising her, and they’re not going to censor themselves for an infant.

“Harper,” Monty says. “Seriously?”

“Seriously!” Monty huffs and makes another mark on his paper. “Oh, also,” she looks over her shoulder at him. “I, uh. Have a date this weekend.” Monty smirks. “Is that weird?”

“No,” he says. Because it’s not.

They’d been broken up for those couple of months before Harper told him she was pregnant. And while he helped her out during her pregnancy, they weren’t together then either. They made the choice to move in together because they thought it would be easier to raise Emma that way, and because they really _were_ still friends it tended to work out okay. Monty had his own room and Harper had her own room and Emma had her own room right in the middle.

“You sure?” she presses.

“Does whoever you’re going out with think it’s weird that you’re living with your ex boyfriend and new baby?” Monty shoots back. “Because that’s the real concern here.”

Harper laughs and insists that whoever she’s going on a date with (she doesn’t say who, and Monty doesn’t press) is Very Okay with the fact that she’s living with her ex boyfriend with whom she has a baby.

“I’m just asking,” she carries on, “because you’ve gotta watch Emma then.”

“Thanks Miss Obvious.”

“You could invite Jasper over,” she says. “Or Bellamy. To help.”

“I know how to babysit, Harp.”

* * *

The Calvary shows up anyway.

Half an hour after Harper leaves Monty and Emma on the floor of their quarters with a handful of toys, there’s a knock on the door followed shortly by Jasper barging in with a grin. Behind him is Bellamy, and behind Bellamy is Miller, and they all look very excited to be spending their Friday night with Monty and the new baby.

Bellamy scoops up Emma first and scrunches his face together before pressing soft rapid kisses to her forehead, and Jasper stands beside him whining for a turn.

“While I love all of you,” Monty says, dropping onto the couch as Bellamy turns to keep the baby out of Jasper’s grasp, “you really didn’t need to come over.”

“Don’t be fooled,” Miller says from the seat beside him, “they didn’t come to support you. They just want to hang out with Emma.” Monty laughs. He’s thankful for his friends. When they all found out that he and Harper were keeping the baby, they were overwhelmingly supportive. “Sometimes you need a break,” Miller says softly. “And that’s okay.”

Eventually Bellamy does pass Emma to Jasper, and soon Miller gets a turn, and basically the entire night is spent with the three of them passing the baby back and forth so they can coo as she coos back.

When Jasper’s with Emma, he’s an entirely different person. Those deep bags under his eyes from years of stress and PTSD are gone and he lights up, smiling brighter than Monty can even remember. He seems truly happy, like things are finally in the past. And if Emma can bring that light out of him, Monty’s happy to share.

Bellamy’s a little more serious with Emma, but still he can’t stop smiling when he has Monty’s sweet girl in his arms. _He’ll make a great dad_ , Monty finds himself thinking, and he can’t help but wonder if he and Clarke have talked about a future together. When Bellamy’s with Emma it’s like he remembers who he really is, a caregiver at heart, and Monty loves to watch that bubble back to the surface.

Miller’s still Miller. His face remains mostly neutral, his joints stiff, but with Emma there’s something soft in his eyes that Monty craves more than anything. When his mouth does happen to curve into a smile at the little girl in his arms Monty has to look away because it feels like something forbidden, a smile from Miller. There’s something gentle about the way he holds her, the way he speaks with her, the way he watches this sweet little baby with love in his eyes.

(Monty likes when Miller holds Emma the best.)

* * *

By the time Harper finally gets back, Miller’s the only one still in their quarters. Bellamy mentioned something about Clarke, and Jasper had some work to get done, but Miller hung around. Monty didn’t mind. Monty never minds when Miller lingers.

That was the thing, really. Why Monty couldn’t be too upset with his relationship with Harper coming to an end. They’d gotten together in the middle of a war when they both just wanted something _safe_ and something _fun_. But being with Harper _completely_ didn’t even give Monty the same rush as when his and Miller’s hands brushed. And if their fingertips just barely managing to graze gets Monty’s heart racing, he can’t even imagine what a kiss would do to him.

“I didn’t realize how late it was,” Miller says, standing, when Harper enters. Emma’s been asleep for a couple of hours now (but with newborns it’s sure not to last that long) and they’ve just been sitting side by side, talking. Monty could talk to Miller for hours. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

“It’s okay,” Monty says, but Miller’s already heading toward the door.

“Hope you had a nice night,” Miller says to Harper with a nod. “Night, guys.”

He leaves them before Harper has a chance to say anything back, but she’s grinning. Monty’s pretty sure he knows what she’s going to say before she even opens her mouth.

“You can go on dates too, you know,” she hums.

“Goodnight, Harper,” Monty says as he stands, starting for his room.

She calls after him, “I think Miller’s great is all!”

“ _Goodnight_ ,” Monty says again. He lingers by his door though. “You did have a nice night though, yeah?” Harper smiles and tips her head into a nod. “I’m glad,” Monty says. And he means it. He wants the best for Harper. “Goodnight.”

* * *

Monty hasn’t slept in like, a week.

He and Harper are trading off Emma duty all the time, passing her between one another as they try to get work done, trying to squeeze in a few hours of sleep here and there, but they are _failing_. Not as parents. They’re good parents. But as like, individuals who exist in society without being sleep deprived.

Instead of working in the office today where he and Raven generally trade off notes and ideas, he’s taken his notepad back to his quarters to try and get more work done there. The constant ticking of the lab and the random explosions tend to make him sleepy (it sounds like home, the Ark, before the chaos). He can focus more with the silence.

At least--

“Oh, thank God!” Harper rushes into their quarters with Emma bundled up in her arms. Monty is not going to get any work done today, is he? “I’m scheduled to help with sparring and there is _no way_ I am bringing her into that sweaty dirty gym, okay?” Monty sighs and holds out his arms for her to deposit their daughter. “I’ll make it up to you!” Harper insists before turning on her heel and rushing out of their home.

The door slams shut, and Emma starts to cry.

“Aw, come on sweetie,” Monty says gently. He stands, pushing himself away from the table, and starts to rock her at once. “No tears, okay? No tears.” It was something his mom used to say to him when he was little, trying to keep him quiet so his voice didn’t echo in the halls of Agro Station and disturb others. Not that tears were bad, but Monty was a loud crier when he was a kid.

Now he knows where Emma gets it.

But now Monty’s also thinking of his mom and his dad, and how he doesn’t have either of them to experience this with and how they’ll never get to meet their granddaughter and how damn _tired_ he just is. Soon Monty finds himself fighting off tears of his own, cradling Emma tighter and closer and shushing her as gently as he can.

“We’re okay,” he whispers to his daughter. “We’re okay, we’re okay.” But his eyes are burning and Emma’s still crying and Monty really really really just needs to sleep.

There’s a knock on the door that makes Monty huff in frustration and exhaustion all at once but it’s not loud enough to cause Emma to start crying again. He shifts her in his arms and hurries for the door, pulling it open with his freehand, finding Miller on the other end.

“Hey, hey,” he rushes in immediately, worry consuming his face. “What’s wrong?”

Monty can’t stifle his tears a second longer and Miller scoops Emma out of his arms without waiting. When Monty’s hands are free he reaches up and swats at his eyes, crying into his palms. Miller’s a few feet from him, holding Emma, gently rocking her, while he waits for Monty to speak.

“I’m okay,” Monty rasps after a long moment passes. He looks up through his wet eyelashes to find Miller still looking upset. “I’m just really tired.”

Miller shifts Emma in his arms and reaches up, cradling Monty’s cheek. His hands are rough and calloused and still so incredibly comforting that Monty can’t help but lean into his touch.

“Get some sleep,” Miller whispers. He brushes his thumb across Monty’s cheek and catches a tear. “I’ll watch her.”

Monty sniffs. “You’re probably busy, and--”

“I was just coming by to see if you needed any help,” Miller cuts him off gently. “Get some sleep.”

“Miller--”

“For me,” Miller insists.

Monty nods, tugging his face out of Miller’s careful hands, before striding forward and pressing a soft kiss to the top of Emma’s head. Miller smiles encouragingly and Monty starts off toward his room. “Thank you,” Monty says softly. Miller’s smile grows and he nods in response.

When Monty wakes a few hours later, it’s to the sound of Emma laughing. He lays in bed a moment, a refreshed smile creeping over his face, before he sits up and tip-toes back out to the living room. Emma’s on her back and Miller’s blowing raspberries on her stomach, loud and silly, and Emma is howling in delight.

Monty leans on his doorframe and watches with a grin.

Miller takes a big breath, making a big show of it, before ducking down and blowing on Emma’s bare stomach again. She squirms and laughs and Miller’s grinning too. The giggles that escape his daughter makes Monty unbelievably happy, and to see this side of Miller so carefree and bright makes something bloom inside of him.

“You are so silly,” Miller says, pulling up to look at Emma. “Silly little girl, hm?” Emma coos, reaching up for Miller, her fingers scratching at his beard. “Your first words are gonna be Uncle Nate,” he says, leaning in and booping his nose against hers. “Right? Uncle. Nate.”

“I’m partial to her first word being Poppa,” Monty says.

Miller startles, pulling back with wide eyes to look toward Monty. “Hey,” he says.

Monty feels warm. “Hi.”

“Sleep okay?” he asks. “We weren’t too loud?”

Monty shakes his head. “No, you were fine. Thank you.” Emma reaches up for Miller and he reaches down, allowing her tiny baby fingers to curl around large calloused ones. “She was okay?”

“She’s an angel,” Miller tells him. “Honestly, Monty.”

“Well you can come babysit anytime you want, Uncle Nate,” Monty says.

Something passes over Miller’s face. “You can call me that, you know,” he says. “Nate.”

Monty swallows. “Yeah?”

Miller nods. “If you wanted.” He looks away, down at Emma, and smiles at the baby before him. “No one really does anymore,” he carries on, tapping at her nose. “And I mean, it is my name.”

“Okay, Nate.”

Miller looks up and over at him at once. The moment feels infinite.

* * *

See, things with Miller--Nate--had been shifting for awhile.

After he and Bryan broke up, Nate kind of spent a lot of time by himself. He could always be found in Arkadia’s library with his nose in a book, or picking up extra shifts, or visiting his dad. From there he integrated himself back in with the delinquents. He was always by Bellamy’s side, always making sure Jasper was still doing okay, always stopping Murphy from doing something stupid. It was natural that he just kind of shifted back into Monty’s life too.

They had a good friendship building in Mount Weather that got kind of jumbled afterwards. There were some looks that lingered just a touch too long, and some hands brushing that felt important. But Nate had Bryan, and after a while Monty had Harper, so all of those moments just kind of faded into the past.

But then Nate was around more, and there were more looks that lingered, and more touches that made Monty’s heart beat faster, and he knew that he wasn’t just making it up.

Given this chance to call him Nate, by a name only his dad uses now that his ex-boyfriend is out of the picture, it feels special.

“It _is_ special,” Harper says at dinner that night. “It’s him basically being like, Monty, you’re as close to me as my dad and my ex-boyfriend once was. Which is really close. Also, date me.”

Monty rolls his eyes. “That’s not what it means.”

“Yes it is.” Monty sticks his tongue out at her and she laughs. “Listen,” Harper says after swallowing a bite of her dinner. “Miller and I are friends. Not the same kind of friends as you two, but friends enough that I can tell when he’s got his heart-eyes turned on.”

“This is ridiculous,” Monty says. Emma babbles in her seat. “See! Even Emma agrees.”

“Maybe Emma wants three parents instead of two,” Harper hums.

“Not four?” Monty wonders. Harper quickly takes a bite to keep her mouth full. “Date not so datable anymore?”

“Nah,” Harper waves her hand. “She was fine. But I don’t know. I want to take some more time for just me, you know?” She looks toward Emma, a fond smile on her face. “And my baby.”

“Our baby.”

“Our baby,” Harper agrees.

* * *

It’s not a date by any means, but Harper practically shoves Monty out the door one Friday night and tells him to go out with their friends. Harper wants a nice quiet night in and Monty’s yet to really go out since Emma was born anyway. When Monty shows up at Arkadia’s bar there’s cheering down the entire row where his friends are seated.

Clarke’s standing, nestled by Bellamy’s side who’s sitting on a stool. Beside them are Raven and Octavia, and then Jasper and Murphy, and then closest to Monty when he enters is Nate. Nate tips his head to the side, waves for the bartender, and orders Monty a drink before he can even object.

“How’s it feel to breathe fresh air?” Nate asks.

Monty laughs. “It’s not like I haven’t left my quarters since Emma,” he says.

“It’s kind of like that,” Murphy chimes, leaning over Nate to get a look at Monty. “Nice to see you, Green.”

“Not sure I can return the sentiment,” Monty says, earning a laugh from Nate beside him.

It’s not a very active night, just spent with his friends around the counter, but by the time he has a few drinks in him Monty’s happy Harper made him go out anyway. They’re going to need to ask if Abby or Kane or maybe even David can babysit little Emma one of these days so the whole gang can be back together again.

After developing a nice buzz Monty hops from his bar stool, sneaks behind the counter, and snatches a botle of moonshine that he donated a few weeks ago. It’s not _technically_ stealing if he’s made it, right?

“Nate,” Monty stage-whispers, jerking his head to the side. “Come on,” he calls.

It still feels like a prize to see Nate smile. After a glance at the rest of their friends Nate hops from his stool too, following Monty silently out of the bar.

They end up climbing into an RV in the garage, locking themselves in the back so no one can disturb them. Monty unscrews the bottle and takes a swig before passing it to Nate who does the same. There’s no question as to why they’ve snuck off or why no one else was invited, just an easy peace between them.

“Monty,” Nate finally says, and Monty hums in response. “What’s it like? Being a dad.”

Monty smiles, propping his head back against the door. “It’s nothing like I thought it’d be,” he says. “I’m… constantly worried. And always thinking about her. But it--it’s… amazing. To feel like I’ve brought something… new into this world.” He looks to Nate, still smiling. “I love her so much,” Monty says. “Emma can be loud and fussy but I love her, so infinitely much.”

Nate looks content with this answer, but he doesn’t say anything in response. Instead he takes another swig. “That’s nice,” he finally murmurs.

Monty pauses. “Do you ever want kids?” he asks.

Nate takes another swig, too soon after the first Monty thinks, and lets out a deep breath. “Yeah,” he says. “But I’m not… I’m not like you.”

“You’d make a great dad,” Monty says, confused.

“I mean, I’m only into guys,” Nate elaborates. “And I know that with our truce now and the way Arkadia is that there’re probably plenty of children who I could raise as my own. And I’m okay with that. It’s valid. But it’s not the same as bringing in life.” He shakes his head and stares into the darkness of the RV, up toward the front where the steering wheel is. “I’m never going to be able to pass on that Miller DNA you know? And it’s nice DNA.”

Monty lets out a soft laugh, knowing he’s trying to lighten his words with a joke. “It is nice DNA,” Monty agrees. A Miller baby would be a certified babe, that’s for sure. “But there’s more to people than DNA, Nate.”

He sighs again. “I know.” Then he shrugs. “Not like it matters anyway,” Nate murmurs. “It’s not like I have someone to do that with.”

“Raise a baby?”

“Mm.”

Monty carefully takes the bottle back from him before taking a drink. “Well it doesn’t need to be like it used to,” Monty tells him. “I mean--look at me and Harper.”

Nate’s quiet for a moment. He rests his head back against the door. “Do you miss her?” Nate asks. Monty’s silent for a moment so Nate turns to look at him. “Harper,” he elaborates.

Monty shakes his head. “Not like that,” he says. Monty takes another swig. “I miss having… someone.” The look on Nate’s face is sad and distant, and Monty can’t help but wonder if he’s thinking about Bryan. “I miss those early mornings in bed just… wrapped around someone. And that _feeling_ , right? When that other person just walks into the room.”

“Yeah,” Nate murmurs.

“I miss kissing,” Monty says with a laugh.

Nate’s eyes linger on Monty’s lips. Monty licks them because he can.

He wonders what it would be like to kiss Nate. To slide his hand across his scruff and pull him down firmly. To slide his tongue into Nate’s mouth and taste him. Nate always seems a little forceful, even though he’s clearly a softie at heart, and Monty wonders what kind of kiss he would give. Full of fire? One where he grips Monty’s hips and keeps him close, his fingers digging into his sides? Or something gentle? Like there’s just a whisper between them and it’s meant to be kept secret?

Monty aches to know.

“Do you miss Bryan?” he asks.

Nate shakes his head. “Not like that.”

* * *

When Monty finally gets back to his quarters, he knows that Emma’s asleep. He makes a big effort to be quiet even though she’s in her room with her door shut, and Harper on the couch just laughs.

“Have a nice night?” she asks.

Monty wants to sink to the floor. He’s still a little drunk, so to the floor he goes. “I’m screwed,” he says. Harper arches an eyebrow curiously and Monty sighs. “I totally like him. I like him so much.”

Harper fist pumps. “I freaking knew it.”

* * *

Days bleed into weeks and Monty watches Emma grows before his eyes.

Her little fingers and toes stretch until they’re longer fingers and toes. She rolls over. She crawls. Everyone gathers around and watches as she makes her way across the carpet. Soon, Monty’s sure she’ll take her first steps.

But she doesn’t become any less of a handful. In fact, the more mobile she gets the harder she is to raise. Someone has to keep their eyes on her at all times so she doesn’t put one of Raven’s wrenches in her mouth, or sip at some of Jasper’s newest moonshine. Bellamy loves babysitting duty though, moreso when Clarke holds Emma close and Bellamy gets to fawn.

And as much as Monty wants to say he’s a perfect father, he’s not. As much as Emma cries, Monty finds himself on the verge of tears too. Just when he thinks he’s got something figured out, Emma reminds him that he’s always learning. He tries, God does he try, but he just can’t win some days.

Like today, when Emma’s playing with blocks on the floor and he falls asleep on the couch.

Monty wakes with a start. His first thought, like it has been for the past few months, is immediately of Emma. The silence is worrying. Silence is always worrying when she’s such a noisy baby, and the fact that he was the one who was supposed to be watching her makes his heart drop. Monty’s on his feet in an instant. If something happens to Emma during Monty Time while Harper’s out with friends, he isn’t sure that Harper is ever going to forgive him.

One scan of the floor finds it empty but it takes no time for him to reach her room. He pauses a few steps away from the doorway. “Shhh,” he hears, and then the small hiccups of his baby which follow most of her fits. “You’re alright, angel.” Nate’s cradling Emma to his chest, rocking back and forth as he pats her lightly on the back. “We need to let Poppa rest, okay?”

Monty blinks, taking in the scene, and warmth erupts over every inch of his skin like it always does when he sees Nate with his baby. He ducks his head and fights a smile, knowing that this is why he and Harper would never work. Seeing Harper with their baby makes him proud, but it doesn’t make him feel like _this_. It never has.

As Emma’s grown, so has Nate’s love for her. It’s obvious in everything he does. The way he holds her, the way his eyes light up when she’s close, the way Nate seems to melt whenever she babbles and fiddles with his beard. It makes Monty think that Emma loves him, too.

“You’re such a handful,” Nate carries on gently, but fondly, as he rocks Emma back to sleep. “So loud all the time, you know that?” Monty watches Nate’s fingers ease up and brush through the thin dark hair on Emma’s head before he presses a kiss to the top of her head. “You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

Monty feels like his heart is going to explode in his chest.

“Nate,” he says. Nate turns, still carefully rocking Emma in his arms. “When’d you get here?” he asks.

“A few minutes after you fell asleep, I think,” he answers softly. “I got this.”

“Stop letting yourself into my quarters,” Monty says.

Nate smiles. “I think you meant to say _thank you_.” Monty wants to kiss him so bad. “I got this,” Nate says another time, his voice even softer. He turns so Monty can see that Emma’s already fallen asleep against him. “See? She loves me.”

“She does,” Monty agrees. Nate’s smile stretches into something so warm and fond that Monty can’t help but smile on his own.

Nate puts Emma down in her crib and rejoins Monty in the living room. “You’ve got to start getting more sleep, Monty,” Nate reprimands him quietly. “I don’t want to be _that guy_ , but if I hadn’t already been on my way over then what would’ve happened?”

“I would’ve been in a lot of trouble,” Monty says. “But I knew you were coming.”

“Oh, you knew?” Nate asks.

“You always come when Harper goes out,” Monty says.

“I do not.”

“You do too,” Monty hums. He takes a step toward Nate, reaching out to grab his hands. They always have moments like this. Monty loves moments like this. “Because you can’t ever get enough of Emma and Harper says you hog her, so you come when she leaves.”

Nate smiles, twisting their fingers together.

“That’s only one of the reasons,” he murmurs.

Monty doesn’t dare think Nate’s talking about him.

* * *

Monty’s cleaning off the table in the kitchen when he comes across a paperback book that makes him laugh. “Harp?” he calls into the living room where she’s on the floor with Emma, trying to get her to waddle. “Since when are you reading Rowling?” he asks.

Nate’s been trying to get Monty to read those Harry Potter books for months now, but Monty can’t focus on things like that. He loves words, sure, but his brain functions in binary and code. He can’t read for too long because he zones out and it makes his eyes hurt.

“I’m not,” she calls back.

Monty grabs the book and strides toward her, holding it up. Nate must’ve gotten Harper to read the books instead. “What’s this, then?”

Harper looks up with a laugh. “Miller reads to Emma whenever he’s over and you’re not,” she says, tipping her head at the book. “I came in last week and they were cuddled on the couch together, Emma cooing and all that, poking at the words.”

Monty scoffs. “She just _sat_ there?”

“Mm-hm.”

“She’s too wiggly,” Monty says back. Emma doesn’t just _sit_ there!

“She does for Miller,” Harper says.

Monty can see it. Nate on the couch with one arm wrapped around Emma’s waist, the other stretched out so he can hold the book open. Emma likes it when Nate talks to her, her dark eyes lighting up at the cadence of his voice. She probably fiddles with his scratchy beard as he reads, or makes babbling noises along with him, encouraged on by his smiles.

And--crap. Crap. Crap.

“I have to go,” Monty says suddenly.

Harper turns to look at him completely. “What’s wrong?”

Monty can’t kid himself anymore. “I’ve got to tell him,” he rasps, gripping the book tighter in his hands. “I have to tell him.”

“Tell who what?” Harper asks, but her confusion only lasts a moment. The grin that takes her face is entirely too mischievous. “Oooh. Got it. Don’t come home tonight!”

“Shut up,” Monty shouts over his shoulder.

His feet are carrying him away, faster and faster, out of his quarters and down the twisting and turning halls of Arkadia. And he wants to knock, but instead he throws open the door. And he wants to speak, but Nate’s sitting on his couch with a book in his hands looking so content and cozy that Monty forgets about words. And he wants to breathe but this confession that’s been building inside of him for so long feels too big.

“Monty?” Nate leaps to his feet. “What’s wrong? Is Emma okay?”

Monty’s throat is dry. “You love her,” he rasps.

Nate blinks in confusion. “What?”

“Emma,” Monty says. “You--you love her.”

Nate’s still confused. “Of course I do,” he says.

“No, but I mean…” Monty steps toward him slowly. “You _read_ to her.” Nate’s eyebrows are still furrowed in confusion but a laugh escapes him at this. “And she loves you. Because she sits on your lap and lets you read to her without interrupting.”

Nate still looks confused but shrugs a little. “Reading makes your eyes hurt,” he says.

Finally they pause, just a few steps from each other. “I want to be with you,” Monty says. Nate’s face morphs into surprise, his eyes wide and his lips parted. “Even before Emma--and how you treat her, I’ve--I…”

Monty trails off and Nate strides forward, closing those last few steps in between them. He cradles Monty’s face in his hands and he kisses him, warm and frantic. Nate kisses him so forcefully that they stumble backwards a few steps. Nate kisses him until Monty is out of air, until he has to pull away with a gasp and give himself a chance to breathe. Nate kisses him like he’s been waiting for this moment for a lifetime and is grateful the wait is over. And Monty kisses him back, desperate for the taste of his lips. Monty kisses him back with a sigh slipping into Nate’s mouth in relief. Monty kisses Nate like it’s the only thing he’s ever learned how to do, kiss this wonderful incredible boy, and like he never wants to stop.

But eventually they do.

“I mean,” Monty breathes between them, his lips brushing against Nate’s as he talks. “I--have a kid. You know. If that--bothers you.”

“Shut up,” Nate murmurs. “I love her. And I love _you_.”

And Monty wants to kiss him again but this confession feels like more, and instead there’s a gasp now in that small space between them, one that Nate cuts off with the kiss Monty couldn’t deliver.

“Nate,” he breathes.

“I love you,” he says again.

Monty feels like he’s floating.

* * *

Whenever Monty slept with Harper, something always felt off. He likes girls and boys, he knew that for a long time, but something still felt _off_. He couldn’t figure it out. Monty loved her (he still does, but it’s different now) and the sex was fine but it wasn’t… this.

God, Monty loves this.

His head is resting on Nate’s chest and Monty’s tracing soft patterns on his bare skin. A sun, a star, a moon, a heart. The silence between them is perfect and Monty wants to stay in this bed forever.

“Nate,” he whispers.

“Mm.”

“I love you too,” Monty tells him. Nate lets out a breath of a laugh and Monty can practically feel him smile. “And not because of Emma. I mean--that’s a big factor. But.”

“You don’t have to explain,” Nate tells him.

“I want to,” Monty says. There’s a beat of silence. “You make me feel the way I want to feel.” Nate breaks out in goosebumps and Monty nuzzles closer. “And _that_. _That_ is something I can’t explain.”

Nate shudders. “You…” his voice is thick. “God, Monty.” Monty lifts his head to look at Nate and Nate bends down to snatch a kiss. Monty wiggles his way back up so he can cradle Nate’s cheek, tugging him closer. “Do you need to get back home tonight?” Nate asks, frantic, to which Monty shakes his head. “Not even--”

“Harper said stay out,” Monty murmurs.

Nate laughs. “Harper knew?”

“Of course she knew,” Monty says. Nate kisses him again. “She’s been pushing me to say something for forever.”

Nate laughs again and the sound of it makes Monty’s stomach soar. “You’re so fucking cute,” Nate tells him. “I’ve wanted this--this with _you_ , for so fucking long.” Nate’s smile slips a little, but he still looks content. “I didn’t know how to say anything. Because of Emma. It never felt like the right time. And you and Harper are still living together, so part of me always thought maybe you were hoping to get back there. And just…” Nate sighs. “I didn’t want to fuck it up.”

“You couldn’t have,” Monty promises. “And I’ve told you before. I love Harper. Just not like…” he trails off, slipping his hand down Nate’s bare chest. “Not like this,” he says with a grin.

Nate’s smile returns full-force.

* * *

It’s not surprising how easy Nate integrates into Monty and Harper and Emma’s life. Their friends are all happy for the two of them, Harper included. The jokes are kept to a minimum. The kissing is kept to a max.

After they put Emma down for the night, Monty climbs on Nate’s lap on the couch and wraps his legs around Nate’s hips and they make-out until Harper gets home from her night shift. And during the day when Monty’s at work Nate will sneak in at lunch time and nip at Monty’s throat. And in the morning, when Nate stays over because the walk back to his quarters where he’d sleep alone anyway, they tangle themselves together beneath the sheets and kiss until Emma starts crying from the room next door.

Nate belongs with them. Monty knows that deep in his soul.

Today confirms it.

Emma starts babbling earlier than usual, the noises coming through the baby monitor, and Nate arches up for a kiss before climbing out of bed. The three of them, Harper and Monty and Nate, rotate for early morning baby duty. Today’s Nate’s turn and he doesn’t mind. He’s always been a morning person.

Monty curls into the warmth of the spot Nate leaves behind and listens to the sounds of Nate reaching out for Emma. “Morning, sweet girl,” his voice comes through the monitor and Monty smiles. “How’d you sleep?”

“Da-da-da,” Emma coos back. Monty sits up straight. He’s rushing into Emma’s room before he knows it and the babble carries on. “ _Da-da_ ,” Emma says again, reaching for Nate.

Nate spins. “I didn’t--” he starts. “I haven’t been--” he tries again. “I never--”

“It’s okay,” Monty says, gripping the doorframe.

“Pop-pa,” Emma says, reaching for Monty then. Nate steps back, out of the way, and Monty steps forward to scoop Emma into his arms.

Nate covers his mouth, looking worried. “I haven’t been trying to--” he stumbles on his words again. “Nate,” he finally rasps. “I’ve just been having her call me Nate, Monty. I swear.”

“It’s okay,” Monty says a second time, but mostly because he can’t think of anything else to say. It _is_ okay, but Nate deserves more words than that. Emma’s around David and Nate all the time, what with David babysitting so Nate and Monty can have nights together. She’s a smart little one, she knows that Nate calls David Dad. She knows that people have moms and dads. Emma understands what _Dada_ means. “Nate…”

“I’ll start breakfast,” he murmurs, rushing out of the room before Monty can voice any of this.

Harper stumbles into Emma’s room a few minutes later, clearly already having heard that she’s stopped crying through the baby monitor. “Did I hear what I think I heard?” she asks, rubbing her eyes. “Did Emma call Miller _Dada_?”

Monty casts a glance out of Emma’s room, into their quarters where Miller’s preparing breakfast.

“She did,” Monty says softly.

* * *

Nate avoids Monty all day. He leaves for work without much of a goodbye, ducks out of lunch early, and manages to stay out longer than his shift. Monty’s waiting in Nate’s quarters at the end of the day, knowing by Nate’s behavior that he’s not going to end up at Monty’s, and Nate startles when he finds Monty on the couch.

“Long day?” Monty asks.

Nate makes himself busy. “A little,” he says. He doesn’t elaborate.

“Are we going to talk about this morning?” Monty asks, his voice a little short. Nate starts picking up small messes in his quarters without responding. Finally Monty huffs, standing and marching over to him. “Nate,” Monty says.

Nate sighs. He’s looking anywhere but at Monty. “Listen,” he says, his voice surprisingly empty. “I know that Emma’s not my daughter.” Even as he says it, Monty recognizes that it doesn’t sound true. “If I ever--if it seems like I’m trying to undermine you or persuade her, or--”

“Stop,” Monty cuts him off gently. Nate closes his eyes as though he’s in pain. Monty reaches out, carefully grabbing Nate’s fingertips. “I’ve been talking to Harper,” Monty says, letting the silence linger. Nate’s eyebrows furrow deeper in pain and Monty squeezes his fingers. “We think that you should move in with us.”

Nate’s eyes fly open. “What?”

“Well mostly I’ve been talking and Harper’s been listening,” Monty carries on, but Nate still looks thrown. “Nate, _I love you_. And it’s clear that Emma loves you too.” He squeezes Nate’s fingers another time and only then does Nate’s face change into one of quiet relief. “Maybe she’s not your daughter. Like, biologically. Or legally. But you’re definitely her dad.”

“Monty…”

“You wake up with her in the middle of the night when she cries,” Monty says. “And you crawl across the floor with her to build block towers. And you read to her. And you feed her. And you love her. And I love you. And I’m tired of you having to go home like, once a week. Or have a place to hide when you don’t want to talk things out.”

Nate’s mouth curves into a smile and Monty can’t stop grinning.

“You want me to move in with you?” Nate whispers.

 _“Yes_.”

Nate glances around his quarters. “Monty…” Before he can bother with an argument, Monty arches up and kisses him gently. “I really didn’t teach her that,” Nate whispers between them. “To call me that.”

“She knows that you’re her dad,” Monty whispers back. Nate’s eyes look wet. “What do you say?”

“Yes,” Nate answers. “Of course.”

* * *

They’ve only lived together for a few months when Monty wakes up in the middle of the night, sensing the other side of the bed is cold. There’s a panic that runs bone deep and an old fear of wars and radiation and death that still lingers, so he shoots out of bed to find Nate at once.

He finds him asleep on the couch, Emma asleep in his arms, both of them looking cozy and content.

Carefully he slides Emma from Nate’s grasp, making a face that more or less tells him to get back to bed, before carrying Emma off to her own room and placing her gently in her crib. When Monty gets back to his own room he curls up to Nate’s side. “She started fussing,” Nate murmurs, nuzzling closer. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

Monty’s quiet for a moment. “Marry me,” he whispers.

Nate tenses. “Monty?”

Monty rolls in Nate’s grasp, looking at him in their dark room. “We live together,” Monty whispers. “Emma calls you Dada. We’ve been dating for a while. I--want to marry you. You’re part of this family, my family, and I want it to be official. I want it to be real.” Nate doesn’t look asleep at all anymore. He looks scared, mostly, and excited, and like he wants to melt. “I love you,” Monty says. “And I want this.”

“You want to marry me,” Nate says. And Monty nods. “You really want to?”

“Nate,” Monty laughs. “Yes.”

Nate laughs too, his smile still too miraculous for Monty, and nods his head. He leans in to kiss Monty deeply, pressing him down onto their mattress as he continues to nod. “Yes,” Nate manages between kisses. “Yes, yeah. Please. Yes. God, yes.”

They don’t fall back asleep for a long time.

* * *

They wait until Emma can walk for the wedding. She’s the flower girl.

* * *

Monty’s thankful that not only is he basically a genius, but that Raven is too, and all of their friends are incredible and resourceful. They need a whole bunch of great minds when they build their giant master-cabin out in the woods in the new settlement, Nate and Monty on one side with Emma’s connecting room in the middle and Harper living on the other side.

Emma’s two now and it’s terrifying. She keeps trying to climb trees. And she puts everything in her mouth. She also asks a million questions. About the sky. And about the animals. And her life.

“I have tree parents,” she says one night in the joint-living room as she doodles on the floor. She means three. She’s still working on her numbers.

Harper looks over at Nate and Monty, Nate’s arm over Monty’s shoulder, and smiles. “You do,” Harper confirms.

Emma looks up at the three of them before going back to doodling. “My friends only have two,” she says. She’s started spending a small portion of her day in the new daycare that Jasper and Bellamy run where she’s made an abundance of friends, Grounders and Sky People alike. “But I have tree.”

“Yep,” Monty agrees. “You do.”

“I’m spoileded.”

Nate laughs. “You are,” he says with a nod.

That night after Monty stands in the doorway while Nate reads another Harry Potter book to Emma before kissing her goodnight, Monty drags Nate to bed. He swings his legs over Nate’s hips and rocks forward, grinning at the groan he gets from Nate.

“Let’s adopt a kid,” Monty says. Nate’s eyes fly open. His cheeks are flushed from the making out and the grinding and he nods immediately. “Just me and you,” Monty adds.

Nate tugs down Monty hard and kisses him in response. But this is what he wants, a family with Nate and with his daughter and new child too, a life where his friends support him, where he can raise his daughter with her mom and still be on his own, a life with his husband.

Clearly Nate is also a fan of this life.

Monty thinks back to this evening when they watched Emma draw their mismatched family on a piece of paper before they hung it on the wall, a family with two dads and one mom that functioned just fine. Spoiled, Emma had called herself.

Monty feels spoiled, too.


End file.
